Broken Secrets
by YulianaHenderson
Summary: Jane left the CBI. But why? And will Jane be capable of letting Lisbon know how much she means to him? Letters from Jane to Lisbon, and vice versa. Jisbon, Rated K plus, it's basically just fluff.


**A/N: My second story today :D. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist.**

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><p><em>Letter<em>

Dear Lisbon,

How are you? I'm fine!

Okay, done with the cheesy crap. Of course I'm fine, I'm always fine.

But that's not why I wrote this letter (were you surprised about it? :P).

I first want you to know that I'll always try to save you, no matter what. I know already told you this, but I'm afraid that you don't listen to me (for which you have good reasons). You're the only one I can ever trust, you mean everything to me.

Second, I want you to know why I'm gone (you're probably the only one who noticed I'm gone by now, for which you have no reason at all. Don't blush, Lisbon, I just know you too well).

You know I want to destroy Red John, want to kill him out of revenge. I love how you've tried to stop me in this, and believe me: It almost worked. But almost.

I've wanted to kill Red John for three years when I met you. The thought had been printed into my mind back then, so I like your effort, but it just couldn't work.

Now, I've left to search for Red John. If I killed him when I still worked with you and the team, I would've hurt you and the team. I didn't want to be responsible for any kind of problems that came after that.

I know you won't agree on me doing this, but I have to do this. For Angela and Charlotte.

The best,

Patrick Jane.

Ps: Don't come looking for me. Please, I really need to do this.

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><p><em>Letter<em>

Dear Jane,

I know I can't stop you.

Just like you know me, I know you.

I assume you won't come back?

Then, I want to say this: It's been an honor to work with you. I've enjoyed all the moments we shared, even though I was sometimes ready to strangle you or shoot your head off.

You made my job sure of a hell lot more interesting to do, I went to work with great pleasure the last years. You taught me many things (I can see now when somebody's lying) and I couldn't have closed all the cases without you.

I just hope you'll come back eventually, but I know not to question your plans.

Sincerely,

Teresa Lisbon.

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><p><em>E-mail<em>

Dear Lisbon,

Don't panic when you read this e-mail!

I'm writing this in jail. I think I did it, I think I killed Red John.

I'm not going to explain it throughout this letter, but I hope you understand my reasoning.

Just don't be mad.

I really need you right now.

Patrick Jane.

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><p><em>Text<em>

Dear Jane,

At first, I was angry.

How can you do this, after eight years of working with me? Believe me, I was.

But I can't be mad at you. Really.

Lisbon.

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><p><em>Letter<em>

Lisbon,

I'm glad you're not mad.

But why was your text so short? (Don't ask me how I was capable of reading your text, you would become mad and hit me, and I don't want that) Is there something bothering that pretty little head of yours?

My trail has been dismissed. I'm free again, Lisbon.

Not that you should know it, though. I'm not coming back anymore.

I know your text was three months ago, but in that time, I had the opportunity to think about what I want to do with my life.

And I felt I couldn't face you. I don't hate you, if that's what you're thinking. For some reason I feel… ashamed of my antics before and after I left.

You deserve someone better, someone who listens to you and who understands you.

Patrick Jane.

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><p><em>E-mail<em>

Hello Jane,

This is Van Pelt here. I have no idea what you told Lisbon, but she now spends most of her time in her office, laying on her couch, crying, occasionally your couch, or with her head in her hands at her desk. It's sure an awful sight, something so not Lisbon-like.

Again, I don't know what you've told her, but we (Cho, Rigsby, Wainwright and me) would very much appreciate it if you went to visit Lisbon again. Even a little text would be enough, but please, just… make it up to her.

Grace van Pelt.

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><p><em>Letter<em>

Dear Teresa,

I've heard from Van pelt what's happened to you.

And I didn't want you to do this to yourself.

Do you want to know the real reason why I left, why I didn't come to visit you, and asked you not to visit me?

It's because I'm in love with you. Big time.

And I really hoped you wouldn't feel the same about me, that you wouldn't be sad when I left. But now that I hear this all, I know you're in love with me as well.

I love you, with whole my heart, and that scared me. I thought that there was only room for two, for Angela and Charlotte. But no.

There's still enough space. For you.

So, dear Teresa, would you be willing to forgive me? Will you please be reasonable for once? I will come back soon, I promise. But I just need some more time to figure things out.

Love,

Patrick Jane.

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><p><em>Letter<em>

Patrick,

I know you love me. I've seen it for almost five years now. But I didn't know what to do with it. I feel guilty.

You belong to Angela and Charlotte (stupid I'm saying this, but it's the truth). And I totally agree on your idea of it.  
>I like you, don't get me wrong, but I don't believe I'm in love with you.<p>

And even if I was, I wouldn't be ready to get into a real relationship yet. And you wouldn't be as well, you know that as well.

Beside all of this, I'm still really looking forward to seeing you again.

You know I really care about you.

Yours,

Teresa Lisbon.

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><p><em>Text<em>

Lisbon,

I get what you're saying.  
>But are you sure you're not in love with me?<br>Jane.

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><p><em>Text<em>

Jane,

Don't start this, you know I hate that.

Lisbon.

* * *

><p><em>Text<em>

Sure?

Jane.

* * *

><p><em>Text<em>

A 100% sure.

Lisbon.

* * *

><p><em>Text<em>

... really?

J.

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><p><em>Text<em>

What do you want to hear?

Lisbon.

* * *

><p><em>Text<em>

Uhm... the truth?

J.

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><p><em>Text<em>

Okay, check your inbox.

Lisbon.

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><p><em>E-mail<em>

Dear Jane,

This was a test, and I know you've failed.

You can't accept my word, and that's okay.  
>Because honestly, you are a 100% right.<p>

Yes, I _am_ in love with you. And just like how I didn't know how to handle the feelings from your side, I didn't knew how to go on with the fact of me falling in love with the most arrogant, selfish, insufferable man that has ever lived.

No, that's not true. Only partly.

Because I wouldn't love you if you weren't sweet, nice, smart and handsome. And get that 1000-watt smile off of your face, mister. Don't flatter yourself.

So yes, I love you, and you've pulled it out of me. Happy now?

Bye,

Lisbon.

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><p><em>Text<em>

How sweet. Wait a minute.

J.

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><p><em>E-mail<em>

My sweet Teresa,

Yes, I'm happy.

I knew you were in love with me. I knew it! (I'm always right, you should know that by now.)  
>And I'm sorry for leaving you. I should've never done such a stupid thing.<p>

I promise that when I return (and I will, sooner than you might think), I'll promise I'll tell everything about what I've done when I was gone. Let this be my promise to you until I get back.

I love you.

Love,

Patrick.

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><p><em>Text<em>

Great e-mail, I guess.

You'll come back? Just like you promised me three months ago?

Lisbon.

* * *

><p><em>Text<em>

Yes. You know that I always keep my promise, right?

J.

* * *

><p><em>Text<em>

Yes, why?

Lisbon.

* * *

><p><em>Text<em>

Look behind you.

J.

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><p><em>Text<em>

Wait a minute, I've got an a idiot to kiss here.

Teresa.

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><p><em>Text<em>

Can't wait.

Patrick.

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><p><strong>AN: I know it's bad, but I just wanted to write a new story, because my beta-reader is currently checking 'Angels have feelings too', so I can't post that one yet... And I'm suffering from a little writer's block, everything I write turns out to be awful. But I just decided to post everything I write, just to let you know how bad my current stories are :D.**

**But let me know what you think!**


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